Poor Relations
by MadnessJones
Summary: TF Prime: Breakdown's 4 brothers arrive on the Nemesis after his death and take up residence, causing chaos for the Decepticons and creating a new threat for the Autobots. No Pairings.
1. No Funeral

_Author's Notes: Hi guys! Well, this is an idea I've had floating around for months, but I didn't know whether or not I was going to post it. I love the idea of bringing Breakdown's G1 brothers into the Primeverse while giving them a creative spin to help them fit into this continuity better. The problem is I have no idea where this story is going. I like the experience of them being in a TF Prime story but it's going to take time for the story to take shape. Any suggestions will be considered. I also gave them slightly different physical features from their G1 counterparts to help them fit into the Primeverse better. Anyway, this is just a prologue, but I hope it sets the right tone. Please review, favorite, and follow to see more :)_

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Chapter 1

No Funeral

The Nemesis bridge was quiet except for the sound of Soundwave typing on the keyboard and searching for the Iacon relics. Things seemed to grow more intense each day between the Decepticons and Autobots. The Nemesis was a hotbed of activity, and yet the atmosphere seemed to be cold and automatic.

Knockout felt that cold indifference more than most, because this war had finally taken something from him more valuable than his beautiful paint job; his beloved friend and assistant Breakdown.

The truth was things were moving pretty fast considering Knockout hadn't even been on the Nemesis one solar year yet. First he worked for Starscream, then Megatron awoke and took command once more, then Starscream ran off and Airachnid was in charge, then Airachnid killed Breakdown and Dreadwing became SIC, and now they were looking for a bunch of ancient Autobot doodads...it was enough to make the poor medic's helm spin.

At the moment Knockout was in the medbay tending to Vehicon troopers. He was reattaching one's leg while two more gossiped in the corner. For the most part he ignored the inane conversation of the underlings, but then they said something that got the race car's attention...

"I was on the bridge when it happened, and I'm telling you it's true!" One Vehicon exclaimed to the other, "It was a call from a Decepticon ship. We're getting reinforcements, and not just more drone troops; actual officers!"

"Oh yeah? How many?" The other one asked while Knockout listened in as he continued to weld the leg.

" _Four_ ," The first one stage whispered, "All of 'em heavies. Apparently all of them grounders, too."

"Grounders? Too bad, only the guys with wings get any respect around here," The other one scoffed, "I don't know if Dreadwing is as much of a racist as Starscream was, but I wouldn't put it past him. He thinks he's better than everyone else."

"He's an officer," The first one pointed out, "They _all_ think they're better than us."

Knockout stopped listening at that point. This was great news! Finally, other automobiles like himself with all the grace of cruise control, and all the prestige of a high rank. No more slagging Vehicons. No more fliers. He was still hurting from losing Breakdown, but Knockout was a flexible mech. He would make new friends from among the four new Decepticons, and finally not have to be alone on this abysmal ship.

* * *

When Knockout heard the small shuttle carrying the new recruits was in range he made certain to be out on the hangar with Megatron, Dreadwing, and Soundwave. The sky was pink and orange with clouds wafting below them. It was evening, but Knockout saw it as the dawn of a new day.

The medic never really felt like he fit in with other Decepticons. Despite his boasting about breaking things and hurting others he really wasn't a vengeful mech. He loved socializing and witty conversation. Other Decepticons didn't really care for him though. An automobile form was supposed to be for Autobots and drones, but Knockout chose to be a car-former. It made him an outcast among most, but then he met another Decepticon like himself; Breakdown. If nothing else, Knockout missed having a mech around that understood his priorities in life.

The shuttle came into view, and then quickly landed on the runway in a manner that was somewhere between an actual landing and a crash. Whoever was piloting that thing wasn't very good at their job.

Knockout noticed the small ship was old and cobbled together from pieces of other ships. He also noticed it was shaped like a crushed muffler due to how many mismatched parts were used in its construction. More than anything else though, he noticed the decals.

There were decals all over this ship! One was a Decepticon sigil split into five equal pieces with writing on the bottom that said "Combined We Stand". Another was a lewd decal of a motorcycle femme in a suggestive mid-transformation pose. Another was a comical Cybertronian glyph that read "Honk If You Like Aft Whoopings". There was even a decal of Optimus Prime's severed helm with neck cables sparkling out of the bottom. It was a tasteless art museum with thrusters! Knockout was starting to rethink this.

The door opened, and a large silver and black mech with purple LED pinstripes on his arms and legs strode down confidently from the ramp. This mech was as tall and broad as Megatron and twice as ugly! His helm was squared off like a hood, and his red optics were thinned in suspicion as he eyed every member of the welcoming party, but when he saw Megatron his face plate broke out into an excited grin.

"Lord Megatron, it is an honor to meet you!" The mech shouted in a gruff voice that carried despite the air whipping over the Nemesis, "You're a real hero, you know that? Ah, what am I talkin' about? Of course you do! Your skills in the Battle of Tyger Pax...Incredible! I wish we could meet under better circumstances, but I'm just glad I finally got to see you before I died. Hold on a klik, _hey slag heaps!_ Get your rusty carcasses out here _now_!"

Knockout was not impressed with this mech, whoever he was. He was boorish, crude, and loud. Also, his hands were big enough to crush Knockout's abdominal struts as if he were an aluminum can. That would not bode well for Knockout's finish.

Three more mechs walked out of the ship upon the first one's command. The first had a dull grey color like Starscream, but had Breakdown's bulky body type and spikes on either side of his helm. His optics were yellow, and his grin was feral to the point of making him look foolish. The second was a bright yellow mech with a black visor over his optics and tires that were below his pedes; allowing him to skate everywhere he went. The mech's stride was confident to the point of being smug, and his body type reminded Knockout of a taller version of Bumblebee or himself. The third was dark red and had a lustrous finish that Knockout was immediately jealous of. His optics were yellow as well, but there was little to no light in them. In fact, everything about this mech just screamed 'I'm dead inside'.

 _Wait a minute_... Knockout thought to himself. _I've heard these descriptions before. Oh no! It isn't! They're not!_

"Lord Megatron, I'm Motormaster, and these are my brothers Wildrider, Drag Strip, and Dead End," The large grey black and purple mech introduced himself and his crew; pointing to the grey, yellow, and red mechs respectively.

 _They are..._ Knockout thought with dread.

"I am pleased that you have come to earth to help us defeat the Autobots," Megatron replied smoothly, "I look forward to seeing you in action."

"You never said anything about helping them," Dead End griped to Motormaster.

"Um, I think there's been a miscommunication, Lord Megatron," Motormaster stammered awkwardly, "It's my fault, of course. You see, we're not here to join you. We're here to collect our brother's body."

"Your what?" Megatron asked flatly.

"Our brother, his name was Breakdown," Motormaster explained, "Well, we recently learned he died when the bond was severed, and we're here to collect his remains so we can hold a funeral for him. Just hand him over and we'll be on our way."

"Um, if I may interject?" Knockout stepped up nervously, "We don't actually...have Breakdown's body. You see-"

"What do you mean, _you don't have him_!?" Motormaster bellowed furiously, " _Where's Breakdown!_?"

"I'm truly sorry, but the body was never recovered," Dreadwing replied for Knockout, "I know how difficult this must be for you. I too have lost a brother in battle, and I must live with his loss every day."

" _One_ brother? Yeah, that _really_ prepares you for what we're goin' through!" Motormaster yelled sarcastically, "We're a combiner unit, you idiot! Just because we haven't actually combined in 49 vorns doesn't make that any less important!"

"In our subgroup a body is more important than a spark," Dead End explained, "Without a compatible body one cannot be a combiner. _Oh_ , I had looked forward to this day for so long! The day one of us would have our first funeral. I had hoped it would be me. Now there is no body, no funeral, and no plan! Breakdown deserved better than this from you. You abandon him to die and then you cannot even bring back a decent looking corpse? Oh, for shame!"

Dead End continued to wail while Drag Strip tried to console him. Motormaster glared at the medic and SIC, but knew no amount of glaring or threats would change what had happened.

"I understand you have lost a brother, and the Decepticon cause has lost a valuable asset," Megatron rumbled softly, "However, there is something you can do. Honor your brother's memory, and stay here with us until you can avenge the body and spark that was lost. I am certain it is what Breakdown would have wanted."

"Do we get to blow stuff up?" Wildrider, who was still sitting by the shuttle, inquired without bothering to get up.

"Of course you do, slag heap!" Motormaster shouted back at his brother.

"Okay!" Wildrider shouted back, "Can I stay?"

"Yeah, we're all gonna stay!" Motormaster shouted at Wildrider, and then in a normal tone of voice said to Megatron, "We would be honored to serve you. We will stay here and honor the Decepticon cause as well as the memory of our brother," Then he turned to his brothers and screamed, " _Alright you scrap piles_ , get your scrap out of the ship! We're movin' into the Nemesis!"

" _Yay_!" Wildrider and Drag Strip shouted gleefully, while Dead End walked languidly to get their stuff.

Of course Megatron didn't care about Breakdown or his memory, but he knew an opportunity when he saw one. Motormaster was incredibly powerful, and transformed into the same type of cargo truck as Optimus Prime. Yes, he could use that...

Knockout, meanwhile, was worried. Breakdown had only mentioned his brothers a few times in conversation. He had actually told Knockout one time that he reminded Breakdown of Dead End. Other than that though, most of the descriptions were not flattering. Breakdown said that his brothers were uneducated, parasitic, and liked to bully those smaller and weaker than them. Breakdown had left his brothers to go to medical school, and they never supported or understood him.

Now they were moving their tacky furniture and decal-littered ship into the Nemesis. Now Knockout was going to have to get to know his late best friend's annoying relatives face-to-face. It seemed lately he had become life's scratching post.


	2. The Gift of Pain

_Author's Notes: Wow. Two months. I waited two months to update this fic. All I can say is I'm sorry about that. I've had a lot of fics to work on, and juggling all of them can be a bit of a strain at times. I haven't forgotten any of them though, and I will continue on with this fic as well. I still don't know where this story is going, and at this stage of the game I'm willing to consider suggestions for scenarios and plot points. While this chapter isn't very story-driven, I like how the character interactions came out. I think I'll do the entire fic from Knockout's POV since that gives it a nice focused perspective. Anyway, enough of me rambling on. Thank you for reading and supporting this fic. I hope you like this chapter and please feel free to leave a review :)_

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Chapter 2

The Gift of Pain

The first thing Knockout noticed about the 4 former combiners is that they mostly talked in yelling. Every time they spoke to each other it was by yelling from across the room. Motormaster was especially gifted at figuring out new ways to yell. He would yell heartily at Megatron and his superior officers. He would yell belligerently at his brothers when he talked to them for too long. He yelled threateningly at Vehicons, Eradicons, and Knockout. He would yell curses when discussing the Autobots. It seemed Motormaster had a yell for every occasion.

Most of Breakdown's brothers also had a habit of cursing whenever they spoke about anything, and generally had low vocabularies. It was something Knockout was used to among soldiers, but it was still rather irritating. Knockout considered himself to be a very civilized mech, and therefore had little tolerance for those that not only weren't but didn't even try to be.

While Drag Strip and Wildrider were clearly fierce warriors and unpredictable mechs, Knockout didn't worry too much about them because they seemed content to do their own thing and leave him alone. Dead End, on the other servo, would hang around the medbay and stare at Knockout's patients like some kind of ghoul. He rarely spoke to anyone. He just stared.

They had been aboard the ship for an orn, or two earth weeks, and already Knockout was getting tired of Dead End. He would use Knockout's rotary buffers without permission, he would root around in Knockout's medicine cabinets and gulp down the pain suppressors like they were energon sweets, and he would read aloud from whatever data pad he had at the time; usually trashy novels from across the galaxy. Knockout didn't know what part of the body a _toborolex_ was supposed to be, but it was clear that it wasn't supposed to be seen in the light of day.

"Hey medic?" Dead end called out placidly, and Knockout was actually startled to hear the maroon mech's voice, "Were you the one who trained Breakdown?"

"Um, yes I was," Knockout replied warily; unsure of Dead End's motives for speaking to him now.

"Was he any good? As a medic I mean," Dead End asked awkwardly as he averted his gaze back down to his data pad.

"Yes, he was a wonderful assistant," Knockout replied, "He was also very gifted with a rotary buffer."

"I know," Dead End replied as a small smile creeped over his face plate, "He used to buff me when we were younglings. I could never reach my back and I always wanted to look perfect. I have to get Drag Strip to do it now, but he's not nearly as talented at it as Breakdown. There is an art to proper buffing technique. It's like painting with an eraser."

"Indeed," Knockout agreed as he smirked, "Honestly, after meeting your brothers I'm surprised Breakdown is even related to them."

Dead End sighed and said "I always secretly wished I was adopted. Our family is gutter trash and everyone knows it. Before the war we lived in a low caste city. I forget the name. Our home was a run down shanty and our father died in the tar fields when we were still young. Motormaster raised us, and needless to say he wasn't very good at it. You can tell by how _well adjusted_ we are." Dead End added sardonically, "You know, I never understood why Breakdown wanted to heal others. Death is an escape, a reward for a life well-lived. Why would you want to take that from someone?"

"Because life is a better gift," Knockout replied with absolute certainty, "I would want any medic that found me to do everything in their power to save me, and that's what Breakdown and I do, um, _did_ , for others. It's not a glamorous job but someone has to do it."

"I think Breakdown made the right decision to leave when he did," Dead End admitted sullenly, "We were powerful as Menasor, but it isn't worth it to live with a power hungry gasket brain like Motormaster. The only reason I stay is because I have nowhere else to go, and while I do not fear death I also do not want to die alone."

"I can understand that," Knockout confessed, "I've had a hard time adjusting without Breakdown. He was my best friend. He was someone I could talk to, someone who could buff out my scratches while I studied a new medical procedure, and someone who understood my true feelings about the war. I'll move on of course, but no one can ever take his place."

"Wow...I wish I could die being you," Dead End whispered eerily as he stared at Knockout's optics, "I want to die knowing that kind of mutual unselfish friendship. Listen Knockout, I've been curious for a while now...How did Breakdown die? Did he suffer? Was it gruesome? Was there a wound? Multiple wounds? Was there scarring? Do you know his final words? Did it take long?"

Knockout wasn't comfortable with the voyeuristic way Dead End phrased his many probing questions, but he also knew that as one of Breakdown's brothers this mech had a right to know. Knockout steeled himself and took a deep intake before telling him what happened.

"Breakdown was tasked with executing a traitor to our cause," Knockout said in forced clipped tones to keep himself from getting upset, "He pursued the traitor and cornered her, but she trapped him, and when he was helpless she tore him apart. Dreadwing said he could hear his screams, but he never found the body. Only a pool of energon where Breakdown had been. Of course his murderer confessed, but she escaped and is still out there. We are still looking for her to avenge Breakdown."

"Motormaster will want to know the name of our target," Dead End replied; all business and with no trace of the former morbid fascination left on his face plate.

"She was our former second in command... _Airachnid_ ," Knockout felt a bad taste in his mouth just from saying that witch's name.

"Airachnid?" Dead End asked in mild surprise, "Oh, now this _is_ a droll turn of events."

"What do you mean?" Knockout asked; his face carrying a quizzical expression as he noticed the light of recognition in Dead End's optics.

"Airachnid is my ex-girlfriend," Dead End explained in an almost fond tone of voice, "I remember she was a very _giving_ femme. She gave me pain quite frequently. To be fair I appreciated the gesture, but it seemed rather cheap on her part. After all, pain costs her nothing and it's not like I can return it for a refund if I don't enjoy myself. It was fun for a while, but eventually we grew bored of each other. I'm surprised that Breakdown couldn't kill her. She's not exactly strong, though she is good with a web and a fingernail filled with acid. Of course acid tends to get into rather sensitive wires if one isn't careful, and it can really wreck one's finish."

"That's too much information," Knockout replied as he cringed.

"Don't worry, Doctor," Dead End replied with yet another placid smile that suddenly had very chilling overtones, "I'll be sure to tell Motormaster about our target, and I'll finally repay that wretched harpy for all of the _gifts_ she gave me over the vorns. I just hope she doesn't mind if it's an event _to die for._ "

Dead End left the room then, and Knockout was grateful to see him go. He really wasn't a fan of Breakdown's family, and that Dead End guy was the worst. He didn't care how good that mech's paint looked, Knockout was certain Dead End was a crazed painkiller addict. Which, when he thought about it, didn't make sense. Dead End spoke of pain and death as if they should be welcomed, and yet was forcing Knockout to use pain repressing cables on his patients because that dark red maniac couldn't keep his servos out of the pills.

* * *

It was late at night on the Nemesis, and Knockout was blissfully enjoying his recharge. He didn't get as much recharge as some of the other mechs on the ship, but unlike other medics like Ratchet he wouldn't purposefully deny himself the opportunity. Whenever he could Knockout would spend as much time on his nice warm berth snoozing away as possible.

Everything was fine in Knockout's little dream world until suddenly a loud crash was heard just outside Knockout's room in the hallways; forcing him to online. Knockout grumbled at being disturbed, but knew it could be an Autobot attack or a scraplet infestation or something, so he forced himself to get up and see what was going on.

When he opened his door and looked to the left he was greeted by the sight of a grey armored truck and a yellow motorcycle laying on the ground in two smoking heaps; both covered in dents from crashing into each other.

"Wildrider you idiot!" The motorcycle yelled at the truck, "Why did you turn _toward_ me!? We were supposed to be havin' _a_ _race_!"

"Race? Oops, I thought we were playin' a game of chicken..." Wildrider simpered apologetically.

"What the slag is _chicken_?" Drag Strip exclaimed irritably.

"Ahem!" Knockout revved his vocalizer to get their attention, and both mechs shut up immediately (for once), "Alright, what's going on here?"

"Wildrider was bein' an aft and now we can't transform!" Drag Strip griped.

"I'm not an aft! I'm a chicken!" Wildrider snapped in reply; unaware of the connotations of the word _chicken_.

Knockout facepalmed and growled under his intakes. He didn't want to repair these guys, he really didn't, but they were both trained warriors and therefore useful to Megatron. If Knockout left them here he would get in trouble with his master, so he had to take them to the medbay.

"Alright, I'll take Drag Strip first since he's lighter weight," Knockout said out loud though he was mostly speaking to himself.

"No way! You can't leave me here alone!" Wildrider protested, "If you don't treat me any the same time as him, I'll tell on you!"

"Tell on-!? What are you, five vorns old?" Knockout snapped before he could stop himself, and then remembered just what kind of mech he was insulting.

As if his fears were coming to life, Wildrider replied with "That's it, cherry aft! I might not be able to transform, but I can still do this!"

Just like that Wildrider's roof-mounted gun turret appeared and he started shooting plasma bursts at Knockout, who practically tap danced out of the way before shutting the door to his room behind him!

"Nice goin', slag pile!" Drag Strip groused, "Now the medic'll never come out!"

"Serves him right for thinkin' you're more important than me!" Wildrider retorted in a huff.

Knockout didn't know what to do. He couldn't leave those two out there for fear of reprisal, but he couldn't leave the room until they calmed down. In that time Megatron could see them out there and assume Knockout was being lazy. If that happened he might be forced to spend a few orns in the brig, or be beaten like Megatron used to beat Starscream! Knockout needed help, and unfortunately he could only think of one mech that could get those two deadly overgrown sparklings under control...

/Um, Motormaster? This is Knockout. Online immediately,/ Knockout comm'ed Motormaster and hoped his voice didn't sound as panicked as he felt, /Motormaster, come in! This is important./

/Huh? _Who is this_!?/ Motormaster's voice somehow went from sleepy to vengeful in a matter of seconds, and Knockout actually gulped upon hearing it, /Hello? Wildrider, if you're tryin' to play another joke on me you better hope I don't find you before the Autobots do, you fraggin' glitch!/

/Motormaster, this is Knockout, the medic,/ Knockout made sure to add his title in the vain hope it would save him from a beating later, /Two of your brothers have crashed in the hallway, and-/

/I told those glitch-fraggin' idiots to stop racin' in the halls!/ Motormaster yelled (as usual), /When I get my servos on them they'll wish they were never onlined!/

/Um, actually, I need to get them to the medbay,/ Knockout replied nervously, /They can't transform, and I'm not strong enough to carry both of them. I need you to carry Wildrider for me. He keeps shooting at me and he's very heavy./

/ _Seriously_? Oh, alright. Don't move, fancy fenders. I'll be there in a klik,/ Motormaster grumbled, though it sounded like he had calmed down a bit.

When the comm cut off Knockout exhaled in relief. He sat down on the floor with his back leaning against the door, and he didn't even try to move until he heard the shouting match going on between Motormaster and his siblings/subordinates.

"Every time I tell you two glitch-fraggin' heaps to do somethin' you do the opposite!" Motormaster chastised his brothers as Knockout walked out to help him, "I swear one of these orns I'll tear you apart, put you back together, tear you apart again, and make you watch as your limbs are fed to scraplets!"

Knockout flinched in terror at Motormaster's vivid description, but the two downed vehicles didn't even seemed fazed by it.

"Yeah, yeah. Just get us to the medbay, _oh_ _glorious leader_ ," Drag Strip growled sarcastically.

"Hey Motormaster, can we have energon goodies after this?" Wildrider asked as if nothing was wrong.

"No!" Motormaster snapped, "You get goodies when you behave for the medic. You tried to shoot him like a fraggin' Autobot! I swear, if it weren't for Autobots, organics, and fliers you two would be the lowest form of life."

Motormaster then picked up a vehicle in each arm and carried them away as if they weighed nothing. Knockout was astounded by how strong Motormaster was considering he couldn't even lift Wildrider; let alone both of them at once! He ran after the semi-former and made a mental note to never provoke the much larger mech.


	3. What Happened?

_Author's Notes: Wow, I'm updating a second fic in one day! I can't remember the last time I was able to do this! Since the last thing I updated was sad (as was the Author's Note) I decided for something a bit lighter and wrote this chapter of Poor Relations. I want to thank **Cashagon** and **TFGirl** for their suggestions for this fic. They've really helped me to know where I want to go with this. I'm implementing one of **Cashagon's** ideas in this chapter, but more of **TFGirl's** later on as the fic progresses. Thank you to everyone who is reading this. Please remember to favorite, follow, and review :)_

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Chapter 3

What Happened?

Knockout did his best to concentrate on his Vehicon patient and not on the set of dim yellow optics watching him from across the room. Dead End was standing in his usual spot by the counters and staring at Knockout and his patient as the medic welded a servo back in place. Sometimes the staring creeped Knockout out, but on this day he just found it annoying.

Once the Vehicon's minor surgery was finished he thanked Knockout and quickly left; also a little disconcerted by the dark red Stunticon's unwavering gaze. Knockout almost chuckled at how jumpy the Vehicon was. He knew the other three Stunticons had a tendency to bully and chase down Megatron's faceless mooks. Wildrider was especially persistent in catching running Vehicons and ripping them apart; leaving the survivors to be repaired by Knockout. Yes, Knockout was beginning to hate Breakdown's family.

A few breems later the medbay doors opened again, this time to admit their SIC Dreadwing. The large blue seeker's wings were bent at odd angles, and his cockpit was broken.

"Yeesh, what happened to you?" Knockout asked in a tone that offered no real concern but no criticism either.

" _Motormaster_ ," Dreadwing growled darkly as he shuffled into the medbay and sat down on a berth, "Just hurry up and fix me, now!"

"Wow, I'm not used to seeing you so testy," Knockout commented even as he started gathering tools to repair the damage, "Do you want a local anesthetic for the pain? I can only offer a cable link-up since _somebody_ ," Here Knockout glared at Dead End, "Consumed all of my pills."

"That will not be necessary, Doctor," Dreadwing replied in a tone that was calm but bespoke of underlying tension, "I can handle the pain."

"If I may venture a guess," Dead End spoke up for the first time in hours; startling Knockout, "Motormaster ambushed you, didn't he?"

"Yes, and if I felt I could get away with it I would kill him," Dreadwing bit out his words in barely contained rage, "I am his superior officer! That Motormaster has no respect for rank, title, or common decency! If he has a grudge against me he should have made a declaration of formal challenge so that we may have a fair fight. To sneak up on one's superior officer...The last time I saw such utter disrespect was from our former SIC Starscream."

"Tell Motormaster that," Dead End replied with a wry smirk, "Comparing him to Starscream is probably the greatest revenge you could have on him. In fact, include it in your report so that it may forever be in Motormaster's service record. You may die, but it will be hilarious."

"Soldier, do you know why Motormaster attacked me?" Dreadwing asked Dead End while Knockout installed new cockpit glass on Dreadwing's front.

"Isn't it obvious?" Dead End asked rhetorically and without malice, "You are a seeker. Motormaster has always been racist against seekers. Even before the war he thought your people were garbage. Personally I don't think frame type matters, since all Cybertronians are self-destructive glitches, but Motormaster believes grounders are better. Honestly, comparing him to Starscream would probably get you slagged, but it would be worth it. Perhaps I'll mention it instead. After all, he can't kill me."

Dead End then did something Knockout wasn't used to; he laughed. Knockout had never heard Dead End laugh before, and it was honestly very unnerving despite the low volume. Dreadwing, on the other servo, actually started laughing along with him, because Dead End's comments gave him a great idea for retribution. Knockout just continued with repairs and tried to ignore the weirdness in the medbay.

* * *

Knockout was wiping used energon off a berth where he had repaired Dreadwing not 5 breems ago. Dead End was still standing in his spot and staring, but the way his optics frequently shuttered let Knockout know the dark red Decepticon was getting tired. _Good_. Maybe Knockout could finally get some peace. As if the universe had conspired against Knockout's notion for a peaceful evening however, at that very moment the medbay doors opened and in walked a very battered Motormaster.

"Hey, slag pile!" Motormaster yelled at Knockout irritably, "Get off your lazy aft and fix me!"

Knockout cringed not only from Motormaster's aggressive tone but also from the extent of his injuries. Motormaster was oozing energon from several places, he had more dents than the medic could count, and one of his optics had been punched out. In short, Motormaster looked like he'd been shoved in an active rock tumbler with a slew of rocks and knives.

"Lay here on the berth," Knockout ordered in a muted tone of voice, "I'll set up an IV of medical grade energon and start repairing you right away."

Motormaster snorted in reply and then layed down as he had been told. Dead End watched the scene with morbid curiosity. Just who was dumb enough to try to scrap Motormaster that badly?

"So, what happened?" Knockout asked the question that had already been burning in Dead End's processor.

" _Megatron_ ," Motormaster growled dejectedly, "He overheard me sayin' somethin' about fliers, and he got real fragged off. I always forget Megatron's a flier. He's too powerful and smart to be a flier."

"You deserved this, you know that right?" Dead End asked unsympathetically.

"Oh, shut up you worthless wreck!" Motormaster snapped at his smirking brother, "I oughtta pound that smug face plate of yours into a license plate!"

"Doesn't change anything," Dead End shrugged; the triumphant smirk never leaving his face, "You shouldn't have pulled a Starscream earlier. Backstabbing a superior officer. What did you expect would happen?"

"GET OUT!" Motormaster bellowed angrily, and Dead End sauntered off without a word or any seeming concern for his own wellbeing, "Frag, sometimes I can't stand him! You agree with me though, right doc? About fliers?"

"I admit I wish more of our fellow Decepticons appreciated a fine set of wheels," Knockout replied easily while continuing to weld fuel lines and pop out dents from the semi's frame, "However, I won't begrudge those who choose wings over tires. Now Insecticons, those are the _real_ freaks."

Motormaster involuntarily shuddered; apparently agreeing with Knockout's statement. For a few moments neither said anything else as Knockout made the necessary repairs and Motormaster winced every time Knockout's welding torch hit a sensitive cable or piece of armor. Finally though, Motormaster broke the silence.

"You mentioned Insecticons," Motormaster said guardedly, "Dead End told me the one that killed Breakdown was an Insecticon femme. Is that why you hate them so much?"

"I must admit it's a factor," Knockout replied somewhat reluctantly, "The Insecticon mechs aren't any better though. They're little more than drones, yet somehow they manage to cause way too much trouble."

"Heh. Sounds like Wildrider and Drag Strip," Motormaster joked, but then in a more serious tone said, "Don't worry about that eight-legged glitch. When I find her I'll make her wish she had never onlined. Hey, you wanna be there when we scrap her? I know Breakdown meant a lot to you. I'll let you pull off one of her legs."

"That's okay," Knockout dismissed the idea, "I mean, it's not that I don't want to, it's just that...I know how she is. Airachnid would probably use her dying words to describe in vivid detail how she killed Breakdown, and I don't want to remember my best friend that way. I want to remember the good things we did together, and imagining him in horrible agony would soil those memories."

"You're a real thinker, huh?" Motormaster scoffed as he scratched at a fresh weld, "No wonder Dead End is always in here. Personally, I think if you overthink everythin' then you won't get anythin' done."

Knockout shrugged at those words and continued with repairs. He wasn't as uncomfortable with Motormaster when he was leaking energon on a med berth, but he still wasn't completely comfortable around him either. He knew that even though Motormaster was being nice to him now that could all change in an instant. He also considered that Megatron probably didn't like this mech right now. It probably wasn't safe to try to be Motormaster's friend just yet.

Fortunately for Knockout when the repairs were done Motormaster was quick to leave the medbay. Apparently Motormaster hated the medbay as much as Dead End loved it. Dead End...Knockout only then realized Dead End wasn't standing there like an annoying shadow, and allowed himself a sigh of relief. He could finally catalogue his supplies in peace.

* * *

Drag Strip and Wildrider snickered as they snuck around corridors and hallways with their prize; several raw energon crystals. They quickly and covertly took the stolen crystals to Drag Strip's quarters and then Wildrider locked the door before any unseen foe could catch them in the act.

"Aw, mech! This is gonna be great!" Wildrider grinned wide as he watched Drag Strip set up the distillery.

"I know. I can't believe those slaggin' grunts just leave this stuff lyin' around," Drag Strip added gleefully as he adjusted a few tubes in his contraption.

Drag Strip was known to be a competitive mech that loved sports and considered racing to be serious business. Most would not categorize the yellow motorcycle-former as intelligent, but he did have one gift that he kept secret from the rest of the world: chemistry. Drag Strip and Wildrider loved getting tanked on high grade, and no one could make high grade like Drag Strip. As soon as they arrived on the Nemesis Drag Strip collected parts to improve his energon distillery so they could make even better (more intoxicating) energon.

Wildrider practically danced as he watched his brother work. Out of all the Stunticons, Wildrider and Drag Strip were probably the closest to being friends with each other. They both liked getting in trouble, they were both competitive and rebellious, and they both could be very immature. Drag Strip wasn't certifiably insane like Wildrider, but that didn't mean he couldn't understand his brother's seemingly random sense of humor. Of course that didn't work both ways. Oftentimes Wildrider wouldn't understand when Drag Strip was joking about something, which could sometimes lead to some awkward pauses or hasty explanations.

"When is it gonna be done?" Wildrider asked impatiently, "You haven't even put in all the crystals yet!"

"I can't rush it, you idiot," Drag Strip barked as he slowly fed a crystal into the grinder, "If these crystals all went in at once, then we'd have a-"

"What? Have a _what_?" Wildrider prodded when Drag Strip suddenly stopped talking.

"Shh!" Drag Strip hissed, "Shut up, Wildrider! Motormaster's on the comm."

Drag Strip listened patiently as his eldest brother spoke. Since Drag Strip had the fastest wheels in the group he was being ordered to deliver a report to Soundwave for the entire group. Sometimes Drag Strip hated it that he and his brothers were all seen as a single unit, and this was definitely one of those times.

"Hey Wildrider, I've gotta go give a data pad to the creepy guy in the mask," Drag Strip informed him.

"You mean Zorro?" Wildrider rattled off confusedly.

"Who? Oh, never mind!" Drag Strip groused, "Just stay here and monitor our booze. Feed the crystals in _slowly_ , and when they're all in there flip the green switch. Not the yellow one, the green one. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah, flip the green switch," Wildrider repeated; a little annoyed that his brother thought he wouldn't remember.

"Good," Drag Strip nodded sharply before rolling away and leaving his brother alone with the machine.

Wildrider tried to do a good job, he really did, when he diligently took that first crystal and slowly fed it through the machine. It didn't take long to get bored, however. He groaned when he realized how long it took the grinder to crush up the crystals. His wrist was cramping from lack of movement, and the other crystals looked so lonely without their crushed companion. He looked at them and could almost hear them screaming for their lost little crystal, and he wanted to make their suffering stop.

If it's one thing Wildrider's brothers taught him it's that when something is suffering you're supposed to kill it, so that's what he did. He scooped up all the crystals and tried to push them into the grinder with the other one as hard as he could. When they wouldn't go down he used both servos to push down, and then started using his entire weight to push them down. Before long he heard a creaking noise and thought the crystals were finally bending to his will. He was wrong.

The entire distillery broke and pieces of it went flying everywhere! Wildrider fell down on his face plate, and it took him a few seconds to realize what had happened. He sat up and noticed a large hunk of shrapnel in his forearm, so he yanked it out and howled in pain as energon started pouring from the wound. He then pulled out more shrapnel from his legs, which bled a little less but was still leaking all over the floor. He looked at the mess of broken crystals and pieces of pot metal everywhere, and he keened in misery as he realized he was in trouble.

That distillery went everywhere with Drag Strip! It had been on countless missions with the Stunticons, and had provided countless hours of blissful overcharged fun. This was probably his brother's most prized possession, and Wildrider ruined it! He considered running, but there was nowhere to go, so he settled for trying to fix the broken machine.

Wildrider spent over an hour trying to hot glue pieces of the distillery back together, yet somehow forgot to glue his injuries shut or even go to the medbay about them. No matter how hard he tried, however, the distillery wasn't coming back. It was gone, nothing more than a modern art sculpture, and Wildrider was probably going to join it when his brothers found out what he'd done.

Drag Strip came back in a few minutes later to find Wildrider sitting on the floor leaking energon from his arm and legs, holding the fractured still and wearing the most pitiful expression on his face plate. He looked just like a kicked puppy, and he was still holding the hot glue gun (which was still dripping down his servo).

"What happened?" Drag Strip asked harshly.

"Drag Strip, I can explain!" Wildrider exclaimed, though he didn't even make an effort to stand up due to low energy.

"Wildrider, you idiot! Look what you've done!" Drag Strip shouted, and Wildrider cringed, "You broke my brother!"

"I didn't mean to do it!" Wildrider cried out; his processor not yet catching up, "I'm sorry about your- _brother_? Wait, what?"

"Look at you!" Drag Strip chided as he gestured to the gash in Wildrider's arm, "You cut yourself up somethin' fierce, and you've just been sittin' here like a city-former while your life bleeds away! Get up, you fragger! We gotta get to the medbay and fix this mess right now!"

"But...What about the still?" Wildrider asked even while Drag Strip was helping him get to his feet.

"Knockout don't know nothin' about fixin' stills," Drag Strip waved it away, "You come with me to the medbay and get yourself fixed! If you die I'm not talkin' to you ever again! You got that?"

Wildrider gasped, hating the idea of being rejected and not fully comprehending the humor in the statement.

"I'll get fixed up! Don't stop talkin' to me!" Wildrider quickly promised as they walked down the hallways, "I'm sorry I broke me. I won't do it again."

""You better not," Drag Strip nodded sharply in his typical fashion, "Because if I had to tell Motormaster you died, I don't even have high grade to keep him busy while I run away."

Drag Strip then laughed at his own statement, and that caused Wildrider to laugh too, Soon Knockout was repairing Wildrider and Drag Strip was keeping him distracted so the medic could work; all worries about the distillery forgotten.


	4. Drag Strip

_Author's Notes: I can't believe it's been nearly 5 months since I last updated this fic! I'm so sorry about the wait. I haven't given up on this story. I just have a lot of stories to work on at the moment. I'm just grateful I took a lot of notes for this one so I can remember where the plot is going. That'll make it easier to get back into writing this fic. Thank you for reading, I hope you'll review, and please enjoy "Poor Relations" :)_

* * *

Chapter 4

Drag Strip

After dealing with the Stunticons for nearly an earth month Knockout was starting to figure out that annoyance didn't have an IQ. Dead End was intelligent compared to his brothers, but he was annoying. Wildrider was so dumb he was practically childlike, yet he was scary and also very annoying. Motormaster and Drag Strip were somewhere between smart and stupid, but they also had their own degrees of annoying. In short, Knockout was beginning to wish they had never come aboard the Nemesis.

Wildrider and Motormaster had gotten into a fight with each other that resulted in Motormaster tearing off Wildrider's arm and Wildrider shoving his helm spikes directly into Motormaster's neck cables. Of course it was Knockout's job to repair them, and of course Drag Strip and Dead End were there watching as Knockout fixed the two blockheads.

Knockout sighed in near distress as he realized that he was trapped in the medbay with all four of the psychotic Stunticons. One wrong word and Drag Strip might tear him apart, and of course Dead End would do nothing to stop him. If anything Dead End seemed to enjoy goading his ill-tempered brothers into harming other mechs. As for Drag Strip, well...

As Knockout thought about it he realized that he had no real interaction with Drag Strip beyond repairing his injuries. The yellow motorcycle-former didn't talk to him much, he stayed in his quarters when he wasn't making an aft of himself, and he spent most of his free time with Wildrider. Beyond that, Knockout knew nothing about him. That in itself seemed strange, considering how the others practically forced their company on the hapless medic.

"Ow! Watch what you're doin', medic!" Motormaster snapped when Knockout accidentally aggravated the neck injury, "I'm tellin' you Wildrider, you better recharge with one optic open, or I'll bust you up!"

"Ooh! That sounds fun!" Wildrider replied enthusiastically, "Hey guys, you think I can really recharge with an optic open? Huh? I bet I can!"

"No way! If anybody could do that it's me!" Drag Strip bragged.

Knockout was surprised by this interaction. Why would Drag Strip not only encourage Wildrider's delusions, but participate in them as well?

"Hey Dead End, time us!" Drag Strip ordered.

"Time what, if I dare ask? Dead End replied disinterestedly.

"Wildrider and I are gonna keep one optic open," Drag Strip explained, "See which one of us does it longer."

Drag Strip then took off his black visor; revealing standard red optics. Dead End looked absolutely put-upon as he stood in place and used his internal chronometer to count the time they were both holding a single optic open while keeping the other shuttered. Knockout almost wanted to laugh at how silly they looked.

This little game of theirs lasted for fifteen minutes with neither one of them blinking or shuttering their optic. Finally though the game ended when Drag Strip had to close his optic and Wildrider won. Wildrider whooped and hollered; rubbing his victory in the yellow mech's face plate.

"I let you win!" Drag Strip declared even as he pouted, "I always let you win because I can't lose. Remember the racing circuits of Tarn?"

"Yeah, you used to cheat," Wildrider replied without judgment; not really understanding what was wrong with such a practice.

"I did not!" Drag Strip shouted defensively, "I was the best and you know it!"

"You used to race on Cybertron?" Knockout asked before he could stop himself, "That sounds so cool. Personally I've raced all over the galaxy, but my favorite track was on planet Gilgahex. Now those squishies knew how to treat a winner."

"Oh yeah? They give out prizes?" Drag Strip asked; curiosity piqued.

"Of course," Knockout smirked, "On Gilgahex they choose their rulers by racing. I was actually mayor of a small village for a few vorns. Breakdown and I had to leave after we got a call from Bludgeon however. His crew caught some sort of rust plague and we had to sort it out, so a new race was held to replace me. It was pretty nice while it lasted though. Too bad the Gilgax were about as attractive as dishwasher spots. I had several marriage proposals, but Gilgax femmes are just so _ugly_."

"You're lyin'!" Drag Strip contested, "No way did you conquer part of a planet by racin'!"

"Oh, it's true. I have holovids of the occasion," Knockout replied, "Perhaps after Wildrider's arm is completed we can watch it together."

"No way, I don't wanna see your vacation videos!" Motormaster griped, "Besides, we've got way better stuff from Cybertron!"

"Oh yeah? Like what?" Knockout asked.

"I've got a video of me takin' down a driller with my bare servos!" Motormaster told him proudly.

"Oh! Can we see the holovid of us as sparklings?" Wildrider asked pleadingly, "There's this one where my pedes got stuck in a furnace and melted, so Breakdown made me new ones out of scrap. They didn't look like mine, but they already knew how to walk! Ain't that somethin'?"

"Pedes don't work like-," Knockout almost explained that pedes don't dictate walking ability, but thought better of it when he saw how happy the memory made the big bruiser.

"I have photographs of the last rust infection I ever had on Cybertron. It was on my back struts," Dead End told them; making Knockout want to purge, "I contracted the ailment when a corrupted building crashed on top of me in Helex. I really thought I would die that time."

"You think you'll die every time," Motormaster scoffed dismissively, "Anyway it's not as good as my holovid of-"

"I wanna see the rust photos!" Wildrider interrupted him, "I bet oil gushed out of your armor."

"You were there Wildrider; you should remember," Dead End chided him.

"I'd rather see Knockout's rule of Gilgahex movies," Drag Strip piped up, "Then we can watch my racin' videos from Tarn, Kaon, Helex, Altihex, and that time I jumped a gorge near the Sea of Rust."

"You are _obsessed_ with racing," Dead End remarked haughtily, "Is it a rule that all racers must be self-absorbed?"

"I vote for watching all of them," Knockout suggested, "But Drag Strip's first. I happen to like the action of a good race. Besides, most mechs I meet don't have so many recordings from Cybertron."

"You miss it?" Motormaster asked in a rare moment of almost-concern, "Cybertron I mean."

"Not really," Knockout shrugged, "I was very young during the great exodus. I don't really remember much about Cybertron, and you can't miss what you don't remember."

"You can't?" Wildrider asked worriedly, "But what if I forget Breakdown? I wanna miss Breakdown, and I can't if I forget him!"

"You won't forget him," Knockout reassured him.

"I might!" Wildrider argued frantically, "I forget everythin'! I forgot not to fight with Motormaster, I forgot not to shoot mechs with purple symbols on them, and I even forgot where my room was yesterday! Oh pit, I forgot what Breakdown looks like!"

Wildrider then started screaming and crying, and Knockout didn't know what to do. How did one comfort a giant spiky murder machine that had just admitted to shooting members of his own team? Drag Strip then suddenly knocked Wildrider on the back of his helm, and while Knockout expected Wildrider to attack the smaller mech what happened instead surprised him.

"There, I knocked the sense back into ya," Drag Strip declared, "Now you can remember what Breakdown looks like."

"I can?" Wildrider asked uncertainty.

"Yep," Drag Strip nodded, "What color was his face?"

"Um...orange? No red! No orange!" Wildrider struggled to recall and almost panicked again.

"You're right," Drag Strip quickly replied without clarifying which one was correct, "Now, what color was the rest of him?"

"Uh...blue and...white?" Wildrider guessed.

"Yep," Drag Strip nodded again, and Wildrider's face beamed with joy, "See? No more nonsense. Call me again if you start feelin' stupid, okay?"

"Okay," Wildrider replied agreeably, "So, can we watch the movies now?"

"Sure," Drag Strip smiled, but then with a more demanding glare shouted, "Hey medic! Set up the projector!"

Knockout was caught off guard at being directly addressed after merely being a spectator to that confusing display. He did as he was told, but the previous scene had made him uncomfortable. Judging from Wildrider's behavior, he obviously had a processor glitch that was most likely due to extensive helm trauma, yet Drag Strip would hit him in the helm whenever he wanted to make Wildrider feel better. Nothing about that made any sense, and Knockout was still no closer to understanding how this family dynamic even worked.

* * *

It was late at night when Dead End felt someone poking him in the back during his peaceful (until now) recharge. He groaned and huddled further into himself so he wouldn't have to awaken to see who was trying to rouse him from his restful slumber. That didn't work, since he was shoved even harder by whoever had intruded on him in his personal quarters.

"What *yawn* is it?" Dead End asked when he saw Wildrider and Drag Strip standing by his berth with anxious expressions on their face plates.

"We need a ground bridge," Drag Strip whispered.

"Then call Soundwave," Dead End replied unsympathetically; annoyed at having to wake up to their ugly faces.

"We can't do that! He's _crazy_!" Wildrider exclaimed in a hushed tone of voice; missing the irony of his own statement.

"Dare I ask what is so important that you brought me back to the land of the functional?" Dead End asked wryly, and only then did he notice Wildrider's servos, "And why is Wildrider holding a brown sack with clothes on it?"

"That's his carpool dummy," Drag Strip explained, "I need to buy supplies for the high grade still, but we're in the air. I need a ground bridge so I can go to the store."

"With a carpool dummy?" Dead End asked flatly.

"Yeah, it's real important!" Wildrider insisted.

"Of course. Wouldn't want to face this war sober, now would you?" Dead End remarked sarcastically, "I'm fairly sure your plan is doomed to failure, but it should at least be an entertaining failure. Alright, I'll hack the ground bridge for you."

"Yay!" Wildrider cheered as Dead End forced himself to get up, "We're gonna get overcharged!"

"Yeah, and I'm probably gonna get _overcharged_ by whatever human store I end up shoppin' at," Drag Strip groused as they followed Dead End through the halls.

They walked for several minutes before they found the ground bridge. A Vehicon drone was guarding the room and halted them when they tried to enter.

"Stop!" The Vehicon called out, "Are you on assignment from Megatron?"

"Yes," Dead End lied easily, "Of course if you need further verification you can ask Motormaster. He's in recharge right now, but I'm sure he won't kill you if you wake him."

The Vehicon gulped and then stepped aside for the three brothers. No way was he going to provoke that brute, and that was exactly what Dead End was counting on. Sometimes it did pay to have a monster for a sibling.

The trio then had full access to the ground bridge, and Drag Strip stepped onto a platform and struck a pose that he thought looked heroic. Of course, his cool pose was wasted on his brothers since Wildrider didn't understand what he was doing and Dead End didn't care.

Dead End, wanting revenge for being awakened, set the coordinates of the ground bridge for the least convenient location he could find pre-installed; 20 miles away from a desert town called Jasper, Nevada.

"Have fun, Drag Strip," Dead End said with the slightest hint of a malicious grin.

"Ooh, ooh, ooh! Don't forget the dummy!" Wildrider called out as he handed Drag Strip the makeshift doll.

"Oh I didn't forget, I just can't take you with me," Drag Strip quipped teasingly, "I'll be back before you can say 'Optimus Prime is a pile of scrap'!"

With those words Drag Strip transformed into his motorcycle mode and buckled the dummy into his seat with a seat belt he probably shouldn't have had. He wished he'd sprung for buying a hologram projector back when Cybertron still sold those things, but they were so expensive and the Stunticons were always so broke.

 _Eh, when life gives you slag, melt it into a distillery._ Drag Strip thought before chuckling at his own musings and speeding off down the road into the morning twilight.

* * *

Drag Strip was so _mad_ at Dead End. Not only did that burgundy ghoul bridge him to a location that was far away from civilization, but the nearest town he did end up finding didn't have even half the parts he needed. He also had trouble purchasing anything because the dummy didn't have movement capabilities, and there were no drive-thru hardware stores. Ultimately he wasted his entire morning buying nothing, and now he was cruising down the road with the carpool dummy trying to blow off some steam.

"Stupid Dead End...Stupid non-helpful grocery store humans..." Drag Strip grumbled under his breath, "I hope the humans all die, and I hope Dead End lives forever, because that'd _really_ show him..."

Drag Strip saw a green SUV coming up behind him, and he wasn't in the mood to interact with the squishies or their imitation Cybertronians. These vehicles were just like having dolls driving all over the road, and not even the fun kind of doll you could order to explode. Just boring driving dolls.

As Drag Strip sped away he noticed that the dummy fell off him and was instantly run over by the other vehicle that had no time to stop for it. Growling angrily, Drag Strip stopped.

 _Dang it! That was Wildrider's dummy!_ Drag Strip thought. _He's gonna be so upset when I come back without it. Stupid humans! They'll pay for this!_

Meanwhile, Bulkhead and Miko stopped in the middle of the desert road shortly before the yellow motorcycle did.

"Oh, no!" Bulkhead gasped in horror, "Miko, I ran over a human!"

"Dude, he just fell right off that thing!" Miko replied, also shocked and appalled at what just happened, "Do you think he's still alive?"

"I dunno," Bulkhead replied shakily, "Get out and check."

"No way dude! I don't wanna see a mangled corpse. You do it," Miko ordered.

"I can't," Bulkhead insisted.

"No one else is here, Bulk," Miko assured him, "No one will see you."

Just then a shadow fell over them, and Miko looked up to see there was a new transformer standing in front of them with a black visor and a murderous snarl. She also saw the sigil...

"Bulk, Decepticon!" Miko screeched.

"You stupid humans ruined my carpool dummy!" Drag Strip bellowed, "Prepare to get scrapped!"

Bulkhead then transformed with Miko in his hand. He set the girl down gently, and then turned to face the raging yellow Decepticon.

"An Autobot, huh? About fraggin' time!" Drag Strip exclaimed gamely, "I'm gonna make you scream!"

"Huh, yeah, a shrimp like you?" Bulkhead scoffed skeptically, "I don't think so."

Just as they were about to exchange blows, a light clicking sound was heard, and Drag Strip looked down to see a human with a pink cell phone snapping a picture of him.

"Ooh, an admirer," Drag Strip preened as he looked down wolfishly at the human, "I hope you got my good side."

"Actually it was kinda blurry," Miko commented, "Can you hold still so I can do it again?"

"Miko, this is serious!" Bulkhead griped, "This guy is probably dangerous."

" _Probably_?" Drag Strip asked; offended, "You bet your aft I'm dangerous! That bein' said, I might just forgive the incident this time. Your little human pet obviously has good taste."

"Who are you, anyway?" Bulkhead asked, slightly confused and annoyed.

"The name's Drag Strip," Drag Strip replied with a toothy grin, "Fastest Cybertronian ever built and an important soldier to Megatron's cause. Who are _you_?"

"Bulkhead," Bulkhead snorted derisively at the 'Con, "Former Wrecker."

"Yeah, I know," Drag Strip replied; the smile never leaving his face plate, "I'm definitely not tellin' the guys about this! If they find out I didn't try to take your helm off they'll have mine instead. That bein' said, how much you want for the human?"

Bulkhead replied by punching Drag Strip in the face, causing the smaller 'Con to fall flat on his back. Drag Strip hazily sat up in time to watch Bulkhead and Miko drive through a ground bridge, and Drag Strip figured he'd better call for one himself before the Autobutts sent reinforcements.


	5. Drag Race

_Author's Notes: I would just like to thank **AskDrKnockout** for helping me come up with the idea for the action sequence in this chapter, and for helping me not take months and months to update again. I have a lot of ideas, and sometimes good ones are accidentally ignored when I'm working on other projects. This fic is back on track and soon it'll get into some multi-chapter plots, but for now have some more Stunticon craziness :)_

* * *

Chapter 5

Drag Race

Knockout had been stuck in the medbay all day and all night for double shifts. The Autobots had really torn into their Vehicon forces, and for whatever reason Megatron still wouldn't let the Stunticons go out there and fight. Knockout didn't know why their leader was being so cagey about unleashing a group of vicious warriors like the Stunticons, but it wasn't Knockout's place to question Megatron (to his face). Rather he had to be content to listen to the Vehicons gossip while he put them back together as Dead End watched him like a vulture waiting for an animal to drop dead.

It took many hours, but finally the last Vehicon left and Knockout could rest. He still couldn't relax though, because Dead End was still standing there watching him. It was something Knockout wasn't scared of anymore, but that still didn't mean he was used to it either. He was mostly just annoyed.

"Shouldn't you go to recharge now, Dead End?" Knockout finally asked.

"Shouldn't you?" Dead End replied pointedly.

Knockout simply huffed and tried to ignore the maroon Stunticon while he cleaned the medbay. Like his own frame, Knockout took pride in a medbay that lustered.

"Hey Knockout, can I ask you something?" Dead End piped up after a few minutes of Knockout scrubbing down an energon-soaked berth.

"What do you want, Dead End?" Knockout asked rudely.

"I want to crawl around inside your processor and absorb your knowledge," Dead End replied, causing Knockout to involuntarily shiver, "But barring that, I would like you to teach me how to be a medic like you."

"Excuse me?" Knockout muttered uncomprehendingly.

"I've been watching you for weeks now, and I want to be like you," Dead End requested, "I want to be a medic as well."

"No. No way! _Absolutely not_!" Knockout objected profusely, "You steal my pain pills, you freak out the patients, and you once asked Dreadwing if he could ram a crow bar into your servo just so you could ' _understand what it feels like_ '. You are way too irresponsible to be trusted with patients' lives. For. Get. It."

"But you are the only medical professional on board the Nemesis," Dead End pointed out, "I could be of use to the Decepticon cause."

"Decepticon cause?" Knockout scoffed, "You don't care about the Decepticons. I don't think you actually care about anything!"

"I care about my physical appearance," Dead End reminded him, "And I care about my brothers. You should watch out for them, by the way. It's been a long time since they were allowed out of the ship, not counting when Drag Strip snuck out the other day. Eventually they will get restless, and when they get restless mechs offline. Just saying."

"I'm not afraid of them anymore," Knockout lied, "Besides, Megatron keeps them in line."

"I notice you sneak out too," Dead End mused; ignoring his last statement entirely, "Where do you go? Is it someplace quiet? Maybe you prefer loud places instead. I prefer quiet places, but that's just me. Wildrider and Drag Strip like loud places. Motormaster likes breakable places. Breakdown used to-"

"If I tell you where I go will you stop talking to me?" Knockout asked irritably.

"Maybe," Dead End replied noncommittally.

Knockout let out a long deep breath and wiped his face plate with his servo. Dead End really knew how to push his buttons. Then again, Dead End seemed to know how to push _everyone's_ buttons.

"Well, when I sneak off, I go drag racing," Knockout explained, "I just drive around small towns at night looking for illegal street races. I always win of course. I'm the fastest thing on wheels on the entire planet after all. It just helps me let off steam, that's all."

"Hm. I see," Dead End nodded, and then without another word he left the medbay.

Knockout sighed in relief when he saw that Dead End was actually leaving. Maybe that stupid Stunticon would get the message and not ask him about being a medic again. The last thing Knockout needed was for Dead End to have a valid excuse to hang around and bother him.

* * *

That night Knockout recharged peacefully and dreamt about crowds cheering his name as he crossed the finish line in a race on Cybertron. He never raced on Cybertron, so his mind made up crazy details like rainbow colored bleachers for the fans and a road made out of pure platinum. He soaked up the adoration as the crowds cheered.

 _Knockout! Knockout! Knockout!_

 _Hey, slag pile! Wake up!_

"Huh?" Knockout blearily awoke when he realized that it was someone actually calling him and not part of his beautiful fantasy.

"I said wake up you good for nothin' soft-sparked piece of scrap!" Drag Strip barked at him as he gave the medic a violent push off his berth, "There! Now that Rechargin' Beauty has bothered to grace us with his presence, we got some unfinished business to get to!"

"Wuh, what are you talking about?" Knockout asked groggily, sore from the push and confused as to why the motorcycle-former was so angry with him.

"Dead End said you said you were the fastest thing on wheels!" Drag Strip shouted accusingly, "Everyone knows _I'm_ the fastest racer alive, and I'm here to call you out! We're racin' down on the planet, right now! Unless you're too scared to face a real racer in a fair competition."

" _Fair_? Even Wildrider knows you cheat, and he's an idiot," Knockout retorted, "I'm not going to race you, Drag Strip. Not after you woke me up from such a good dream."

"Fine. Then I guess you want me to leave you alone then?" Drag Strip asked in a voice that promised bad things to follow.

"Yes, I want you out of my room _now_!" Knockout screamed, too angry to notice Drag Strip's sinister tone.

"Fine then," Drag Strip replied with a sadistic smirk, "Oh, Wildrider!" He called out in a sing-song voice.

Wildrider then entered the room; barely able to fit with Drag Strip and Knockout already taking up so much room.

"You know what to do, big guy," Drag Strip ordered vaguely as he flashed a malicious sneer at Knockout.

"Tear him apart?" Wildrider asked eagerly.

"Yep," Drag Strip replied chipperly, "I'll just leave you two alone then."

"No, wait!" Knockout quickly called out, and Drag Strip stopped right at the exit, "I'll do it! I'll race you!"

"Good mech," Drag Strip purred; satisfied that he got his way.

"Yer gonna race?" Wildrider asked Drag Strip, "Ooh, ooh! I wanna race too!"

"You can't beat me," Drag Strip scoffed at Wildrider condescendingly.

"I know, but I'm bored," Wildrider complained, "Besides, I wanna see how you'll beat the medic. Maybe you could slash his tires halfway through like ya did to that one guy. What was his name? Oh yeah, Blurr! You really kicked his tailpipe! Oh, and the time you rammed into that one guy with the bad struts. Oh, mech! That was priceless!"

"Hey now, I don't want to brawl. I just want to race," Knockout held up his hands placatingly.

"You didn't _wanna_ race. I made you race, and I could make you fight if I wanted to," Drag Strip bragged immaturely.

Knockout sighed (it was getting to be a habit) and followed the two Stunticons out of his room. Waiting for them at the ground bridge room was Dead End, who gave Knockout an evil smirk that looked more alive than Knockout was used to seeing the listless mech look.

"Hey medic, bet you wish you had some help now," Dead End taunted before setting the coordinates and activating the bridge, "Hope you don't get injured. No one here knows how to treat your wounds."

The other two laughed sinisterly, and Knockout finally figured out what was going on. Dead End was getting revenge on Knockout for turning him down for a position as a medic's apprentice. Knockout, unlike the Stunticons, was completely unaware of Dead End's vengeful streak. If it could've Knockout's body would've paled, because now he knew he had become enemies with most of the Stunticons.

* * *

Dead End had transported them to a beach on some small island with no people. There was no road, so the group would have to race in the sand. Knockout and Drag Strip didn't have good tread on their tires, so oddly enough the one with the advantage was Wildrider. For whatever reason, Dead End had obviously wanted Wildrider to win.

The three competitors transformed into their alt modes and revved their engines to start the race. Drag Strip counted down to when they should start driving, but of course he drove off before finishing the count, leaving Knockout and Wildrider to spin out before trying to catch up to him.

Drag Strip took an early lead as he raced through the sand and the sea water, but soon Knockout and Wildrider were both catching up to the yellow motorcycle. They all left trails of sand and surf in their wake as they jockeyed for the lead position. Knockout didn't want to participate in this race, but he wasn't about to let Drag Strip wake him up _and_ humiliate him all in one day.

Knockout hugged the dry side of the beach to avoid getting wet sand on his glossy finish, but it was making it more difficult to catch up to the others since he was driving on the wider part of their makeshift track. It was a close race, and Knockout didn't even know where their finish line was supposed to be, so he didn't know how long he would have to keep up with this fevered pace. His guess was that the race would continue until the losers got too tired to continue. Wait, was this an endurance race? Knockout didn't even know if he should speed up or slow down to conserve his energy. This was a nightmare!

Wildrider inched closer to Drag Strip, who was in the lead. Wildrider was about to ram into Drag Strip's aft and make him fall over, but then he was distracted by a sea turtle crawling along the edge of the beach. Wildrider screeched to a halt and transformed into his robot mode so he could poke the turtle with his finger and pet its large shiny wet shell. Needless to say Wildrider didn't care about the race anymore.

Now it was just Knockout and Drag Strip, and Drag Strip had a slight lead on the red medic. Knockout gave it everything he got even though he didn't know the rules of the game. He wasn't about to let that no good delinquent have bragging rights on him when it came to racing, even if Knockout was worried about the possibility of revenge or a beating.

Drag Strip started swerving in a zigzag pattern in the sand to show off as he kept his lead. Knockout, not one to be outdone, revved back on his rear tires before smashing back down into the soft sand and speeding ahead of Drag Strip. Drag Strip quickly caught up to Knockout, but surprisingly he seemed to be attempting to keep pace rather than get ahead.

"Hey medic, you some kind of lowrider?" Drag Strip asked approvingly, "Breakdown and Wildrider used to do stunts like that back in Tarn."

"Where do you think I learned how to do that in the first place?" Knockout asked, never slowing down but not speeding up either.

"Mech, you're alright," Drag Strip commented, "Listen medic, I already know I could whoop your aft any orn of the cycle, but I like you, so let's just call it a draw. What do you say?"

"I say...eat my dust, slagger!" Knockout taunted before speeding ahead; kicking up sand all over Drag Strip.

"Oh, _it's on_!" Drag Strip roared; angry that Knockout had just embarrassed him like that.

Drag Strip maxed out his speed limit and came upon a palm tree. He used his momentum to drive on the palm tree's bark and use it like a ramp to gain lift. He made a 30 ft. jump and landed right in front of Knockout, which angered the medic. He sped up to catch up to Drag Strip, who was now taking their race into the jungle that was just beyond the beach.

Drag Strip realized too late the mistake he made in driving into the forest. Wet leaves were causing Drag Strip to slip and weave, and being a motorcycle meant he didn't have near the control over himself that a well armored car like Knockout had.

Knockout attempted to pass Drag Strip, and the two racers were so close it was impossible to tell who was in the lead. Both Decepticons revved their engines to the limit, but soon the grudge match was cut short when they both saw a ground bridge pop up in front of them. Neither one could stop themselves before they crashed into the large Cybertronian that had exited from said ground bridge; Motormaster.

"Well, well, well, so there you are, lemon aft," Motormaster growled as he looked down at Drag Strip; still in his alt mode.

Drag Strip and Knockout quickly transformed into robot mode knowing that they might have to either fight or run for their lives. Their vehicle modes were simply too battered for that.

"You ruined my beautiful frame!" Knockout wailed despite himself, "Do you know how difficult it is to find protoform metal on earth?"

"Where's Wildrider?" Motormaster asked Drag Strip; ignoring Knockout's rant altogether.

"He's playin' with some sea lizard or somethin' back at the tide," Drag Strip informed him, "Bolt brain couldn't even focus on a race for a full breem."

Motormaster then proceeded to punch Drag Strip square in the chassis, causing the yellow mech to fall over and the medic to yelp in surprise.

"Why do I keep gettin' hit?" Drag Strip groused as he wiped away some leaking energon from his chassis.

"Next time it'll be your face plate if you run off without permission again," Motormaster warned him, "Megatron's been lookin' for us, and you weren't there. Do you know how that makes me look? Huh? Do ya?"

"Sorry, boss," Drag Strip replied contritely as he looked away from Motormaster, "I'll go get Wildrider."

Drag Strip then skulked off to retrieve his brother, and Knockout to his horror was left alone in the remotest part of the planet with Motormaster, and Motormaster was in a bad mood.

"So medic," Motormaster grunted, and Knockout tensed, "I hear you denied Dead End's request for medical trainin'. Is that right?"

"Um, no, not at all!" Knockout quickly lied, "He misunderstood me. I would be honored to have another Stunticon as my apprentice. After all, Breakdown did such a good job, so surely Dead End will also learn quickly."

"Uh huh," Motormaster crossed his arms, not entirely convinced, "I know you don't want him, but you should take him. Dead End might be a pain in the aft and kinda creepy, but he's smart. Real smart. I don't know why, but for whatever reason he respects you. Respect don't come easy with Dead End, yet somehow you cracked the code. You better not be the one that causes him to finally kill himself, or I'll make you wish you were never sparked. Got it?"

"Um, yes sir, got it," Knockout stammered nervously, "He can start tomorrow."

"He can start _today_ ," Motormaster corrected him with a hard glare.

"Of course, that's what I meant to say," Knockout simpered.

Drag Strip came back with Wildrider, who for some reason was covered in seaweed. Motormaster slapped his forehead when he saw the mess his younger brother had gotten into. The four Decepticons went through the ground bridge, Drag Strip with no racing glory and Knockout with an unwanted apprentice.


	6. Operation: Loose Screw

_Author's Notes: This chapter is the first one where Knockout doesn't appear. Don't worry though, he'll be back soon. This is also the first chapter that involves a multi-chapter plot, and I can't help but wonder if anyone saw this turn of events coming. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter, and please review :)_

* * *

Chapter 6

Operation: Loose Screw

Motormaster stood on the bridge with Megatron, Dreadwing, and Soundwave. It had been nearly three months since he and his brothers had arrived on the Nemesis, and they had yet to see any action. It had taken a while, but Motormaster was finally getting fed up with Megatron keeping them cooped up on the ship and wanted answers now.

"Hey Megatron!" Motormaster boomed, and Megatron glared at him; sending a warning signal that Motormaster ignored, "You've had five skirmishes with the Autobots, and my boys and I haven't been apart of any of them! What gives?"

"Watch your tone when you address me, Stunticon," Megatron hissed, and Motormaster squared his shoulders uncomfortably, "As for why you haven't been sent out in the field, the answer is simple. You and your team are currently of no use to me."

" _No use_?" Motormaster repeated incredulously, "You let the fraggin' _Vehicons_ out and we're stuck on this flyin' boat because you think we're _useless_!?"

"I said _currently_ of no use," Megatron corrected him, "Make no mistake, you and your combiner team are a great asset to the Decepticon cause, but only when you are whole. Ever since you got here I have had Soundwave searching for other Decepticon warriors that fit your team's specific needs. He has already downloaded a spec sheet to give to Knockout so that a new right leg can be transferred to Menasor. However, we have yet to track down the perfect match, and we cannot allow an inferior mech to disgrace your unit."

"Well, I guess that's true," Motormaster reluctantly agreed, "So when we're made whole again you'll let us kill Autobots?"

"Yes," Megatron nodded, "Now, was there anything else you needed, Motormaster?"

"Uh, no Lord Megatron, not at all," Motormaster quickly replied as he backed away from the bridge; only now realizing the wrath Megatron could unleash on him, "Sorry to disturb you, master. I'll go tell the boys about your ingenious plan to get Menasor back. Well, uh, goodbye."

Motormaster then ran off before Megatron could fire his ion cannon at him or something equally horrendous. He still walked away feeling proud of himself though, because he finally had the information he needed and soon he and his gestalt would be allowed to leave this giant purple tin can.

* * *

The Stunticons sat around in the storage room waiting for Motormaster. Dead End had to bail on Knockout so he could answer his big brother's summons, and if he didn't know any better he would swear that Knockout looked pleased by this news. Wildrider and Drag Strip were taking turns bouncing a basketball against the wall and catching it in their servos. To a Decepticon a basketball was merely the size of a rubber ball, and to Dead End it was just as annoying.

Motormaster finally showed up, and his brothers all looked at him with impatient expressions. It reminded Motormaster of when they were sparklings and the four of them would stare at Breakdown like that to scare him. Breakdown eventually outgrew his fear of being watched, which Motormaster thought was a shame since it was so much fun to torment the blue bruiser.

"Stunticons, we've got a problem," Motormaster announced gravely.

"We know," Dead End replied sardonically, "But we can't seem to get rid of you."

Drag Strip and Wildrider chuckled, but they quit laughing when Motormaster smashed one of the empty crates with his heavy fist. The suddenness of the action caused the duo to yelp in surprise and sit up straighter.

"Now that I have your attention," Motormaster drawled, "Megatron ain't lettin' us out because we don't have a fifth Stunticon. It takes five to combine, and without combinin' we're slag outta luck. If we wanna fight, we have to combine. If we wanna combine, then we need a fifth mech. There ain't no fifth mech around here that fits the bill, so Knockout can't make us a new leg. Suggestions?"

"Has Megatron tried getting Soundwave to look for new members?" Drag Strip asked.

"Yeah, he did that," Motormaster replied roughly, "Megatron's smart, so he knew what to look for. Unfortunately he ain't findin' nothin'. He says we need somethin' specific for a good combiner. Now, what are we lookin' for and how do we find it?"

"The new member must be big and sturdy," Dead End mused, "As one of the legs, he would need to be able to support our weight. He would also need to be large enough to fit our mold."

"He'd need to be a grounder," Motormaster added, "No sissy fliers are gettin' in our gestalt. They break too easy."

"Can it be a femme?" Wildrider suddenly asked, "Since I'm the left leg and I'm grey, I want our other leg to be pink."

"What do pink and grey have to do with each other?" Dead End asked despite himself.

"If our legs are pink and grey we'll look like we're wearin' socks," Wildrider grinned; making even less sense than usual.

"Oh for crying out-!" Dead End muttered as he put a servo to his forehead.

"Hey guys? I think I know a mech that would fit," Drag Strip offered, "Though gettin' him here is gonna be difficult."

"Oh yeah? Where do we find this guy?" Motormaster asked eagerly.

"Autobot headquarters," Was Drag Strip's simple reply.

"Huh?" Motormaster asked uncomprehendingly.

"Well, uh, I kinda snuck out a few weeks ago," Drag Strip admitted to his big scary brother, "It was only once, well, twice if you include the beach race. Uh heh heh, uh, anyway, I was drivin' out in the desert when I came across an Autobot, but not just any Autobot, it was Bulkhead; Breakdown's old rival!"

"Did you kill him?" Wildrider asked casually.

"No! Pay attention!" Drag Strip snapped, "What I'm tryin' to say is I got a good look at him, and he has the same heavy armored body type as Wildrider and Breakdown! He's perfect! Not to mention we don't have a green guy yet."

" _Bulkhead_? Are you glitched?" Motormaster asked caustically, "We hate Bulkhead! He tried to kill our brother, and if Breakdown were alive he would be incensed at the idea of bein' replaced by the mech he hated most in the universe! We ain't usin' Bulkhead! End of discussion!"

"Besides, how would we even get him to agree to such an arrangement?" Dead End asked skeptically, "Autobots are pretty set in their ways. I don't think a bribe would work on one so single-minded."

"Hey, when I say _end of discussion_ , what do you hear?" Motormaster groused at Dead End.

"Mostly the sound of your mouth spewing exhaust," Dead End replied with an impish smile.

"Actually, I think I might know a way to get him to go along with it," Drag Strip replied; the glimmer of an idea forming in his processor, "He has a pet human, and he really seems to care about it. If we hold it for ransom we can make him join us and then we'll have converted an Autobot and strengthened the Decepticons all in one blow! Ain't it brilliant? It's the best plan ever in my opinion."

"Can we squash the human when we're done with it?" Wildrider asked.

"No! We keep the human!" Drag Strip barked at his dimwitted brother, "We need it to keep Bulkhead compliant. Besides, it thinks I'm hot. Apparently humans are smart creatures."

Motormaster smacked his forehead and grumbled under his breath. He could barely handle the brothers he had, and now he was looking for another one of these? It seemed even crazier than Drag Strip's Autobot-as-a-replacement-part idea.

"Alright, fine, we'll try the Bulkhead route," Motormaster reluctantly agreed, "But if he starts gettin' uppity I'm gonna kill him, and I expect you bozos to help me do it. Got it?"

"As always, oh glorious leader," Dead End replied sarcastically.

Motormaster snorted like an angry bull but didn't hurt Dead End. He knew by now that physical punishments didn't work on that maroon masochist. Besides, it would take all four of them to keep Bulkhead in line if they were really going to try to make him a Stunticon. The more Motormaster thought about this plan, the stupider it seemed. Still, what choice did they have? Surrender and become peaceful? Hah! Yeah right! That just wasn't the Stunticon way.

* * *

"Hahaha! It tickles!" Wildrider giggled as he rocked on his tires in vehicle mode; splashing green paint all over the curb.

"Hold still, frag head," Dead End growled as he checked himself for paint splatter, and once satisfied he was still clean continued to paint Wildrider, "Now, you don't look exactly like this Bulkhelm person, but hopefully this will be close enough to fool the human. I don't really know how intelligent these hairless apes are to be honest. Hey, stop squirming!"

"But it tickles!" Wildrider protested, "Hey, do you have to paint my undercarriage?"

"No, thank the Allspark," Dead End muttered, "Okay, now this _school_ place will soon release their captured specimens. You need to be parked in front of the school when the Miko gets out. You'll have an estimated fifteen minutes before Bulkhead shows up, so make it quick."

"Why is Bulkhead gonna take so long?" Wildrider asked curiously, "Did he get his tires slashed?"

Dead End sighed longsufferingly and shook his helm in exasperation.

"I already told you, Wildrider," Dead End grumbled, "Drag Strip and Motormaster are keeping Bulkhead busy, and I'm keeping you from blowing this plan to the matrix. There. Finished. Now, drive to the coordinates of the school and wait for the Miko. I have to return to the Nemesis to ensure no one looks for us. Don't call out to her, because then you might attract unwanted children."

"Unwanted children? That's sad!" Wildrider exclaimed sympathetically, "Can we keep some? We can bring home four, one for each of us. I want a purple one!"

"Humans don't come in purple, and you are running late! Now go!" Dead End shouted in an uncharacteristically loud voice and shoved Wildrider's bumper to make him drive away.

Wildrider took the hint and drove off in the direction of the school. There was a slight trail of drab green paint on the road, but by the time he got to the school he was mostly dry and ready to pick up his kidnapping victim.

 _Wait a minute!_ Wildrider suddenly thought. _I don't know what Miko looks like! Aw, crud! It's Breakdown all over again!_

Wildrider was mentally panicking, though on the outside he looked like any other lifeless all-terrain vehicle. The school bell was already ringing, and kids were already clamoring out of the building and either walking, driving, or riding home. Wildrider hoped Miko would come to him, because he had no idea which one she was. He couldn't even tell boys from girls.

Meanwhile, Jack, Miko, and Rafael were walking together out of the building and talking nonchalantly with each other. There was a crowd of kids around them, yet every clique was in their own world, so no one noticed or cared what the trio was talking about.

"So, is Bumblebee picking us up today?" Jack asked Raf.

"No, dudes. Bulkhead's picking us up," Miko informed them, "He said we could go by the KO Burger on our way home."

"Yeah, I kind of don't want to go there right now," Jack quickly muttered as he picked up the pace.

"Aw, don't beat yourself up, Jack Rabbit," Miko consoled the teenager as she slapped him hard on the back; making him wince, "Lots of kids get fired for missing too many days of work. You're better off without that job. New opportunities and all that. Besides, you're the first human to ever visit Cybertron, so clearly you're meant for better things."

"Thanks Miko," Jack replied with a sincere smile.

"Hey guys, does Bulkhead look a little...square today?" Ray asked as he pointed to the innocuous looking green jeep parked in front of the school.

"Nah, you're seeing things," Miko waved him off before running to get in the car.

The door opened for Miko and she hopped right in the front passenger seat. Before the doors could close, however, the two boys got in the back.

Wildrider didn't know what to do. He was supposed to only bring back Miko, so clearly he needed to get rid of the other two unwanted children, but he didn't know which one was Miko. Deciding Motormaster would know who was who, Wildrider drove off with the kids and hoped he wasn't in trouble for bringing unwanted pets. Then again, it could be a good thing. He wondered briefly if he could hide the other two and keep them for himself. They could live under the bed and eat leftover energon crystals from Drag Strip's distillery. Yeah, that could work.

"Hey Bulk, KO Burger is the other way," Miko told the Transformer after a few minutes of driving, "You're not even going the right way for Autobot HQ. What's going on?"

"Your bodies feel weird on my seats," Wildrider complained, "Can you stand up or somethin'?"

"That voice...Bulkhead, are you okay?" Jack asked nervously, "You sound...nasally."

"And Texan," Raf added as he scrunched himself up smaller; fearing this could be a trap.

"Textin'? I can't text the guys. I don't read too good," Wildrider admitted after mishearing the boys.

"Bulkhead, what's wrong with you?" Miko asked demandingly.

"Nothin's wrong," Wildrider replied, "I'm just not Bulkhead. Now if I were Bulkhead somethin' would be wrong, but right now I'm not Bulkhead so I'm fine."

"Not Bulkhead? Then who are you?" Jack asked; panic rising in his chest.

"I'm Wildrider," Wildrider introduced himself as if nothing were wrong, "I'm supposed to capture Miko and no one else, but I didn't know who was who, so now you're all my new friends. Well, I might have to give Miko back to Bulkhead, but I'm keepin' whichever two of you aren't Miko. Course I might have to squish you if my brothers say I can't have pets. So, sorry, but two of you are probably gonna die. Then again it's your own fault for gettin' in a strange car. You humans are real stupid."

"Let us out, you evil 'Con!" Miko shouted at Wildrider and kicked at his floorboards, though this did nothing to stop Wildrider from driving on his prepared course.

"No! I found you, and finders keepers!" Wildrider exclaimed immaturely, "Oh yeah, I should be callin' for a ground bridge or somethin', huh? Hang on a sec..."

Wildrider then contacted Dead End for a ground bridge, and within seconds he was driving onto the Nemesis with three human kids in tow. Wildrider opened his doors, but when the kids saw the big scary dark red Decepticon they were reluctant to leave. Dead End waited patiently, knowing they would get out soon, and Wildrider rocked on his tires waiting for them to vacate.

"Get out of my brother, children," Dead End ordered in a patronizing tone of voice, "I will reach in and grab you if you make me wait much longer."

Reluctantly the three kids exited the vehicle, and then Wildrider quickly drove off to take a shower and get the paint off. He normally didn't mind being dirty, but human-made paint itched. That left the kids alone with a strange Decepticon staring down at them with listless yellow optics and unknown intent.

"What do you creeps want with Bulkhead?" Miko asked as she balled up her fists; ready for a fight if necessary.

"We want to turn him into a giant leg," Dead End replied drolly just to see how they would react.

"A what now?" Jack asked in confusion.

"A leg. For Menasor," Dead End elaborated, though the kids were still clueless, "I am part of a team of Decepticons known as a combiner unit. When there are five of us we can combine into a much larger robot made up of our joined parts. This is our way of inviting your Bulkhead to become one with us. He would be a fool to refuse."

"Whoa, whoa, wait! You mean Cybertronians can mash together into _bigger_ Cybertronians?" Miko asked almost excitedly, "Is it only Decepticons, or can Autobots do it too?"

"The Autobots considered Shockwave's combiner experiments unethical," Dead End explained, "Most test subjects either died, went mad, or had irreversible damage. Only three combiners were ever successfully made, but none of them are currently whole enough to combine again. We intend to change that."

"Excuse me, sir?" Raf spoke up, careful to be respectful even though he was talking to an enemy, "Did you really volunteer to fuse with other mechs? Weren't you scared of losing yourself when your minds joined together?"

"It was a long time ago," Dead End replied plainly, "We were young and poor. My brothers and I wanted to join the Decepticons pretty badly, but my older brother Motormaster was too proud to have us reformat as fliers. Volunteering for the combiner experiment was a way to not only join the Decepticons but also to make desperately needed credits. Honestly though, it is a rather...spiritual experience, to become so close to four other Cybertronians that way. My brothers and I were already related by coding, but once we became a gestalt unit our sparks were linked in a way that I doubt could ever be replicated."

"I don't understand though," Raf replied as he looked up at the Decepticon, "If being a combiner is so important, and you form such a strong bond with the others you combine with, then why would you want that kind of bond with Bulkhead? Do you know him? Did he used to be your friend?"

"I've never met the mech," Dead End shrugged indifferently, "This isn't about feelings, children. This is about serving the Decepticon cause and my family. My brothers need something to live for, and I need them to feel useful and happy, so if combining with a brain-dead brute is what it takes, well then it isn't like it will be the first time I've done so."

"If I understand your story correctly," Jack began uneasily, "You need five mechs to combine, but you only have four. You combined with your brothers. So...does that mean one of your brothers died during the war?"

"Does the name Breakdown mean anything to you?" Dead End asked.

" _Breakdown_? That creep that kept trying to scrap Bulkhead?" Miko asked hostilely, "You're Breakdown's brother?"

"One of four, to be more precise," Dead End replied with a wry smile, "Does it surprise you that Megatron's dumb muscle can have friends and loved ones? Well get used to it. Seeing as how you are so close to Bulkhead, I'm going to venture a guess that you are Miko."

"Yeah? So?" Miko snapped, though her anger was slowly turning to fear.

" _So_ , welcome to the Nemesis," Dead End replied with mock cordiality, "It will be your new home, and your eventual tomb."

* * *

Bulkhead was getting tired. That crummy motorcycle from a few weeks prior had brought a large black and grey 'Con with purple pinstripe lights to help him fight, and Bulkhead was having trouble dealing with two against one. The yellow one would speed by and attack while the large one would attack full force and leave more dents in Bulkhead than he had ever had since arriving on earth.

Bulkhead refused to let himself fall to the ground no matter how winded he got or how many injuries were inflicted. He wasn't about to let these filthy 'Cons get the better of him. He had tried to call the other Autobots for backup, but the signal was being jammed. It seemed like every time they actually needed to use the comm it was jammed or offline or something. Sometimes Bulkhead wondered what the point of having a comm system even was.

"Gettin' tired, slag heap?" Drag Strip taunted the battered Autobot, "What do you think, boss? Think he's had enough?"

"You're in pretty lousy condition, eh Autobot?" Motormaster asked rhetorically, "Don't worry, slagger. We'll get the medic to beat out your dings real good. Hey Drag Strip, you think Knockout'll have a spark attack when we bring this one in?"

"Yeah! He might just keel over right then and there!" Drag Strip howled with laughter, "Eh, but seriously Autobot, you ready to come with us or what?"

"Go with _you_? I'd rather eat my own berth!" Bulkhead snapped defiantly despite barely being able to stand.

"I guess you surrenderin' is a bad idea," Motormaster replied with a snide knowing tone to his voice, "You just go on back to your own kind and forget this ever happened. Hey Drag Strip, how long do you figure it'll take Bulkhead's human to start cryin' when we rip her arms and legs off?"

"Not long," Drag Strip replied casually without even bothering to look at Bulkhead, "I hear humans have a real low tolerance for pain. Though if you pop the head off it just kills them, so don't start with that."

"If you go anywhere near Miko I'll-!" Bulkhead bellowed threateningly.

"Oh, but we already have," Motormaster dropped the bombshell, his smile growing wider in an unsettling fashion, "We have your pet, and if you don't want us to twist her into a painful little knot you'll do _exactly_ what we say."

Bulkhead's optics widened in realization. This fight had been nothing but a diversion, and the 'Cons had kidnapped his best friend. Motormaster and Drag Strip grinned smugly as Bulkhead's spark struggled to keep up in light of this horrifying knowledge. Miko was with the Decepticons. There was also no telling how many new 'Cons Megatron had. Bulkhead already knew about the two, but there could be more. He had to save Miko, and in order to do that he would have to play along for the moment until he could find a way to strike back at his adversaries.

"Alright. You win," Bulkhead conceded, "I'll go with you. Just let Miko go."

"We'll see," Motormaster replied less than assuringly, /Hey Dead End, we need a ground bridge./

/One moment. I just need to get the kids out of the way,/ Dead End replied in a very put-upon manner.

/ _Kids_? We only needed one, you moron!/ Motormaster yelled at Dead End over the comm.

/I know, but you know Wildrider,/ Dead End replied, /Don't worry though. As it turns out Miko is quite annoying, but the other two are tolerable. I might make a little coffin for the tiny one. He looks sickly./

Motormaster rolled his optics at that comment. He knew that Dead End saying an organic looked sickly was his version of saying it was cute. The last thing Motormaster needed was his brothers deciding they wanted their own human pets. Megatron hated the humans, and having them around might cause problems later on. After a moment of thought though Motormaster decided to drop it for the time being; deciding that they could cross that bridge later.

The ground bridge appeared a few minutes later, and Bulkhead was forced to walk in front of Motormaster and Drag Strip as they held weapons on him. The laser guns themselves probably wouldn't kill Bulkhead and he knew it, but he also knew that Motormaster's bare servos could kill him. He also knew he was Miko's only hope, so he had to keep his helm clear in order to save her...if he wasn't already too late.


	7. Once Upon a Gestalt

_Author's Notes: This is a much shorter chapter than I meant to write, but the chapter ended so well where it was I decided to stop here and post it as-is. Hopefully the next one will be longer. Thank you guys for reading, and I hope you enjoy this chapter of "Poor Relations" :)_

Chapter 7

Once Upon a Gestalt

After a few minutes of being forced to endure the dark red mech's company, the captured kids saw a large grey mech with spikes and reinforced armor enter the ground bridge room. They could see little flecks of green paint, so this was obviously the car that had driven them to Decepticon headquarters.

"Hey Dead End, when are the others supposed to be back?" The grey mech asked.

 _Others_? Jack didn't like the sound that. He was visibly nervous around the new mech given his frightening appearance and the fact that Jack knew this guy had no qualms about hurting or even killing them if necessary. Add to that the fact that he was Breakdown's brother, and it was a recipe for disaster.

"They should be back with Bulkhead momentarily," Dead End replied nonchalantly, "Now, I'll take Miko to Knockout's medbay for examination."

Then Dead End picked up Jack by his shirt collar, causing the boy to yelp in protest, and then handed the human teenager to the scary grey mech.

"You can have this human. I don't want it," Dead End remarked offhandedly, "I'm keeping the little one, and Bulkhead can have Miko back as soon as he agrees to be our combiner-kin. Just be ready to join us when you're called, Wildrider."

"Yippee!" Wildrider exclaimed as he held Jack close to his face, "I get my own human! I wonder what they taste like."

"Just leave," Dead End ordered in an annoyed tone, and Jack gulped; wondering if this big brute was really planning on eating him.

Wildrider practically bounced and skipped all the way to his room, which caused Jack to feel airsick as he was jostled to and fro by the excited Decepticon. They made it to a small room that Jack assumed was the mech's personal quarters, further confirmed when Wildrider layed down on the berth and set Jack on top of his chassis. Jack hoped the big guy went to sleep quickly so that he could attempt an escape from this madhouse.

"What's yer name, human? I don't remember if ya told me," Wildrider inquired.

"My name is Jack," Jack replied; impatient for this guy to go into recharge but trying not to sound like it, "I already heard your name was Wildrider. So, um, goodnight, I guess."

"I want a story!" Wildrider demanded, and Jack looked at him in confusion, "Tell me a story, Jack! Make it a good one!"

"O-Okay," Jack stammered awkwardly, "What kind of books do you have around here?"

"None. I don't read books," Wildrider stated, "Just make one up."

"Fine," Jack sighed longsufferingly, "Once upon a time, there was a little boy that looked just like you."

"Wow, that guy must've been _ugh-ly_!" Wildrider commented with a chuckle, "What else?"

"Well, the little boy lived in a normal happy...happy land in the...mountains," Jack fumbled; trying to think of a story on the fly so this deranged mech didn't crush him, "One day he was tending his farm when he was beamed away to the kingdom in the sky."

"What happened to the farm?" Wildrider asked curiously.

"That's not important right now," Jack snapped quickly before continuing, "Anyway, the queen of the sky was in great trouble. Her husband, the wise and benevolent king of the sky had lost his spirit. His spirit had been stolen by the king of the shadows, and now the king of the sky was weak and ready to obey the shadow king's every command. The kingdom of the sky would be doomed if their rightful king was not returned to his rightful state. It was up to the little boy to save the king."

"Did he do it?" Wildrider interrupted once again.

"Um, yes," Jack replied; tired of trying to tell a story to this big brute, "The little boy found the USB drive where the shadow king had hidden the sky king's spirit, and the sky king was returned to normal. The sky king then kicked the shadow king's butt. The end."

"What if the sky king had never gotten his spirit back?" Wildrider asked, "I mean, what _is_ a spirit? Does everybody have one? Do you have to back it up with an extra flash drive? Is it inside you? Do I have one in me right now? _Agh_! Get it out! I don't want a spirit! It's too much responsibility!"

"Oh, brother," Jack muttered under his breath, but then in a normal volume said, "Well, I guess for a Cybertronian the closest equivalent would be a spark. You have a spark, right?"

"The sky king lost his spark?" Wildrider asked obliviously.

Truth be told, Jack had based his flimsy story off the time he had to find the Matrix of Leadership to restore Optimus Prime's memory, but he didn't know how to explain that one to Wildrider. He could've just told that story, but this guy was a Decepticon, and the idea of Optimus Prime having a happily ever after might've driven him over the edge.

"Um, sort of," Jack replied uncertainly, "The sky king lost the part of him that made him who he was. It was more like he lost a vital part of his processor. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Oh, you mean like me," Wildrider nodded; believing he understood, "The sky king got turned stupid. Okay, now I get it."

"Turned stupid?" Jack asked, "You think you're stupid?"

"Of course I'm stupid," Wildrider replied; barely shrugging as he looked up at the boy on his chest, "I've always been stupid. Motormaster says I have a lot of nonsense in me. He don't like it, but Drag Strip knows how to knock the nonsense out. Breakdown used to know how to talk the nonsense out, but he can't do that no more because he died. I...I...I don't want Bulkhead. I don't wanna replace our leg. I don't wanna replace Breakdown. I miss Breakdown. _I want Breakdown_!"

Wildrider then did something Jack never expected; he started openly sobbing and leaking optic fluid. Jack fell into Wildrider's lap as the Decepticon sat up and cried even louder. Jack didn't know what to do. Should he try to comfort the Decepticon, or should he use the moment to try to escape while Wildrider was distracted?

"Where's Breakdown's spirit drive when you need it?" Wildrider sobbed pitifully, "We can't be Menasor without another mech, but I don't want another mech! I want my brother! Give him back! Make Breakdown be here!"

Jack could tell that Wildrider wasn't talking to him anymore. In fact, he wondered if Wildrider even knew who he was talking to. He could've been talking to Airachnid, to Knockout, to Megatron, to his brothers, or to whatever deity he believed in. In actuality he was probably talking to no one, but rather allowing his spark's desire to bubble forth in a barely-coherent fit of anguish.

Jack didn't know what to say, but it didn't feel right to leave someone in that state, even if that someone had kidnapped him. He felt like an idiot for staying, but stay Jack did. He patted the mech's leg and listened while Wildrider cried himself out. After a few more minutes Wildrider was laying back down and heaving large intakes of air. Jack just stayed on Wildrider's leg and tried not to be too conspicuous. He just hoped these mood swings didn't come back to bite him in the end.

* * *

Knockout had managed to have a peaceful day working on his finish and organizing his cabinets. No patients came in that day, and for some reason his _assistant_ had decided not to show up for work that day. To say Knockout was relieved was an understatement.

His good mood and happy day were soon interrupted however when a familiar dark red menace came strolling in with two objects in his fists. It took Knockout a moment to register what Dead End had, but when he heard grunting and an attempt to escape he realized that Dead End had brought him humans.

"You won't get away with this, you Decepticon freak!" Miko shouted at Dead End, making Knockout realize that the Stunticon had brought him the Autobots' humans. As if the red medic wasn't tormented enough already.

"Dead End, what did you do?" Knockout asked in a flat tone of voice that indicated his displeasure.

"The Menasor conundrum has been solved," Dead End proclaimed proudly as he sat Miko down on the table, keeping a firm grip on Raf, "We have kidnapped Bulkhead's human, and that green barbarian is already on board the ship ready for the transfer. All you have to do is graft Bulkhead's spark signature into ours and upgrade his T-Cog, and then we'll have a fully functioning combiner unit again."

Knockout's optics went wide and he sputtered a few times; too shocked to do anything else. He wasn't familiar enough with the procedure to go through with it with any sort of confidence. He also couldn't believe the Stunticons went behind everyone else's backs. That wasn't the real problem though, _oh no_. The real problem was...

" _Never_ ," Knockout hissed resolutely, "I will _never_ attach Bulkhead to a Decepticon gestalt. He was Breakdown's mortal enemy and I will not see him replace my best friend! Never! You can forget it!"

"We need him," Dead End replied simply, unwilling to give a better explanation than that.

"You don't outrank me, Dead End!" Knockout shouted indignantly, "You are my apprentice, and I am your boss! I say Bulkhead will never be a Stunticon, and that is final!"

"Motormaster is my boss," Dead End replied calmly; completely unshaken by Knockout's outburst, "And he wants Bulkhead on our team. If you want to argue with Motormaster then I say go ahead. It will only delay the inevitable."

As if summoned, Motormaster came in followed by Drag Strip and Bulkhead. Bulkhead looked at the operating table and saw Miko, and then he saw Raf being held in Dead End's miserable servo.

"Kids! Are you alright?" Bulkhead asked worriedly.

"Bulk!" Miko shouted as she ran toward him, but was stopped by Dead End's servo intercepting her, "Hey, back off you creep! I just wanna see Bulkhead!"

"You see, Autobrat?" Motormaster barked at Bulkhead, "The humans are fine. Now, get on the table. It's time for surgery."

Bulkhead looked nervous, the kids looked terrified, and Knockout looked incensed. That was the last straw.

"NO!" Knockout screamed at Motormaster, surprising everyone in the room, "I will _not_ perform this surgery! Bulkhead doesn't _deserve_ to be a Stunticon! You're crazy if you think I'll go along with this! Everyone get out of my medbay _right now_!"

The others in the room were stunned into silence, but Motormaster's optic ridges creased in silent fury. He took one menacing step closer to Knockout, and while Knockout didn't regret his decision yet he had a feeling he would in a moment.

"That's it, cherry aft. You've done it this time," Motormaster growled quietly at him; the low tone more threatening than his yell, "Bulkhead _will_ be one of us, you _will_ perform the surgery, and you _will_ learn to like it or you will wish I was never built. Now, watch the humans. If I see so much as a red smear on the ground where they used to be I'll kill you myself. Got it?"

"Y-Yes sir," Knockout stammered; unsure why such an order was given but not about to question it.

"Good," Motormaster spat, "Come on Drag Strip, we've gotta have a little talk with Megatron. Dead End, guard the prisoners."

"Including Knockout?" Dead End asked with a sardonic smile.

"Shut up," Motormaster growled as he stormed off with a jittery Drag Strip trailing behind him.

Knockout didn't know how Motormaster would spin this or if Megatron would even take his side on matters, but he did know one thing. He was recharging with one optic open after this was all over.


End file.
